A Woman's Purse
by hairsprayheart
Summary: Bob drops Helen's purse accidentally and discovers something interesting inside. Incredibles. Oneshot. Prequel of sorts.


A Woman's Purse

_An Incredibles One-Shot by hairsprayheart_

This is a sort of prequel to the modern Incredibles, taking place after Bob and Helen get married and before the majority of the movie. It was inspired by the scene in the movie where Bob talks to the criminal who was looking through a woman's purse – figured you'd get that. In any case, enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bob Parr hummed as he briskly made his way around the house, lifting the furniture up effortlessly as he shoved the vacuum into various nooks and crannies to clean them up. Today was the housewarming party for him and his new wife, Helen Truax Parr. They had returned from their honeymoon to a nice, if not rather small, house, a few months earlier and they had just now unpacked (for the most part, anyway) and prepared it enough to the point of being able to host a party.

Helen was excited, to say the least, having always been a wonderful hostess and quite the party animal. Since having to go into hiding, she'd focused all of her Super efforts into being a perfect wife. Sometimes it was stressful, but she could handle it – she enjoyed the challenge.

"Is anybody here yet?" she called from her closet, looking for something appropriate to wear. The party wasn't exactly formal, but she did think it was important to look nice.

"Not yet!" Bob replied.

"Thanks for doing this, honey," Helen said, emerging from the closet in a slinky dress to give Bob a kiss. "I know you don't exactly enjoy cleaning."

"It's my domestic duty," he grinned, returning the kiss. "You look gorgeous, by the way."

"Thank you." Helen flashed a dazzling smile in gratitude. "Well, I'm going to go to the store now to pick up some last-minute things for the party. I can't believe we've had this house for six months and still don't have everything unpacked."

She shook her head before marching out to the garage.

"Are you sure?" Bob asked after her. "I mean, you look so nice. I should go."

"Oh. Okay, honey," Helen relented, pausing. "You do still have to get ready, though."

"I know," Bob said. "I still have time."

Helen raised her eyebrow. "Isn't that what you said the night you were _late _to your own wedding?"

Bob backed down. She had a point.

"I won't be late. I swear. All we need is some chips, right?"

"And the dip, and some champagne," she reminded him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Do I need to write you a list?"

"I'm fine," Bob insisted. "…But why do we need champagne?"

"Every good party has champagne," Helen replied airily, as if he should know.

Bob shrugged and leaned down to give her a kiss. "All right. I'll be back soon." He saw her skeptical look. "Really."

As he crawled into his sports car, he sighed as he realized that he could no longer convert it into the Incredible it had once been. His days of glory were over. At least now he could settle down like he had always wanted to. He blinked in the bright sunshine that bathed his lawn and pulled out of the driveway carefully.

"Oh," he said, noticing something on the passenger seat when he was about halfway to the supermarket. "Looks like Helen left her purse in here."

He seemed to have forgotten his wallet. Hopefully the people at the store wouldn't ask for ID if he was only getting a few dollars worth of stuff. He could just take Helen's purse.

As he strolled through the checkout stand, he placed his items on the belt and watched in boredom as they were priced and bagged.

"That'll be six fifty eight," the cashier droned.

"Can I do that in cash?"

The lady frowned at him. As if he should know.

"All right then," he said quickly, laying down a few bills.

"Your wife normally does the shopping for you, doesn't she?"

Bob looked up, surprised. "Excuse me?"

The cashier looked behind him. There was nobody else in line. Oh, great… He already could tell she was about to start monologueing. Like a villain or something.

"Well, you are carrying a purse. Unless you usually do, or something."

"Look, lady, can I just get my groceries?" he asked impatiently.

"Sure. Have a nice day."

Bob frowned, snatched his bags, and hurriedly walked out of the store. He checked his watch. Thanks to that stupid lady, he was late. He'd be lucky if he could change and shower in time for the party. Now Helen was going to yell at him, and—

_Smack!_

"Oh, pardon me. I'm quite sorry," stammered a rather disoriented-looking older woman.

Bob cursed under his breath as he knelt to pick up his scattered groceries and the contents of the purse. The chips were all crunched up, and it would take him a while to get all this cleaned up.

"That's just great," he snapped.

Shoving things hastily back into the purse, he decided that he was just not going to go back and get more chips. Let his guests eat them the way they were. After all, it was his guests' fault that he had had to go through all of this anyway.

"Whoa. What's this?"

He fingered a slim white piece of plastic. It looked sort of like some primitive tracking device. He turned it over to observe the other side. There was a small window in it, with a little pink plus sign.

"Is she trying to do some moonlight hero work?" he asked, grinning.

He finished shoving his stuff into the back of his car – it was difficult with all the high tech gadgets already in there – and was still holding onto the little stick when a scruffy man walked by.

"Hey, man, if I were in your place, I'd be sweatin' too."

Bob wiped his brow. He must have perspired a little bit in between the frustrating conversation with the cashier, and picking up all of the groceries.

"What do you mean?" he asked, suspicious.

"Dude," the man chuckled, pointing ominously at the stick, "haven't you ever seen one of those before? It's a pregnancy test. It's positive."

Bob chuckled too. "You're kidding, right? I didn't know they had those."

"They're new," the man replied. "Real high tech."

"Right." Bob shook his head. "I bet they are." He rolled his eyes and got in the car. What a nut. First off, a simple piece of plastic could not indicate pregnancy. And certainly not in Helen.

Still, he couldn't help himself. He poked his head out the window.

"Wait," he called out to the man. "How can you be sure? That these things are right?"

The man shrugged. "I dunno. Ask a woman. You just pee on them, and voila."

"I don't understand."

"It's not that complicated!" the man cried. "Go get a life, man. Talk to your girlfriend or something."

"Don't tell me to get a life," Bob growled, opening the door.

"Be cool, dude," the man frowned. "It's not my problem you got her knocked up—"

The next thing Bob knew, he was holding the man by the throat.

"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY WIFE LIKE THAT!" he roared. He quickly dropped the man and sped off, before he could recover.

Still breathing hard when he parked the car, he ran a hand through his blond hair. His mind was reeling. This couldn't be happening. They had only been married for six months. Sure, he would love to have a family – just not yet. He didn't think he was ready. He took a deep breath and walked into the house, not bothering to grab the groceries – just the purse. And the offending object it contained.

He pushed through the front door and stopped, looking in something like awe at Helen. She was standing in front of a window, and a beautiful glow surrounded her as the sunshine hit her back.

"Something wrong, honey?" she asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head to clear it. "But there's something I need to talk to you about." He pulled out the stick.

Helen immediately paled.

"What is this? You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"Can we not do this right now?" Helen whispered.

"I don't know why you kept this from me."  
"Don't get angry," Helen demanded, her eyes narrowing. "We'll talk about it later."  
"Why not now?"

"Because," Helen hissed, "there are people in the kitchen listening to our conversation right now. That means you, Aunt Bea!" she yelled in addition.

A creak could be heard on the floorboards.

Helen led Bob to the couch and had him sit there. "All right. I'm pregnant. I just wanted to wait until after the party to tell you."

"I can't believe this," Bob said slowly.

Helen cringed.

"This… this is great!" he cried, picking her up and swinging her around. "I can't wait."

"Really?"  
"Really." He kissed her.

"I'm glad you feel this way," she said. "Now I might as well tell everybody before Aunt Bea does."

He chuckled lightly and went to go change.


End file.
